Roses To Remember
by restive nature
Summary: Complete! A BtVS HP birthday fic for Inell. Draco's a man on a mission.
1. Default Chapter

Title: Roses To Remember (Part 1of 4)

Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)

Rated- PG-13 for some mild language

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and settings belong to either Rowling or Whedon. *sigh*

Summary- Draco's a man on a mission.

Spoilers- Season 7 of Buffy, Season 4 of Angel. (Pretty much season 5 hasn't happened yet.)

Distribution: TtH, VSS and my Yahoo group

Dedicated to Inell. Hope you like!

AN- This is a birthday present for Inell, tailor-made. It's broken into four parts because, you know, they say that anticipation is the spice of life, right? The fic requirements will be posted at the end of the story. Also, this is my very first BtVS/ HP crossover. So please forgive any OOC's. 

"Angel Investigations, we help the hopeless," Fred's voice chirped as she answered the telephone, then winced. She felt like slapping herself on the forehead. Wes had warned her first thing this morning when they had arrived to just let the answering machine pick up if anyone called. But with all the noise and confusion going on, the slight Texan had responded automatically. 

"Good day," a clipped, accented voice came over the line. "This is Mister Draco Malfoy. I should like to procure a room for an extended stay. I will be arriving-!"

"Oh, I'm sorry sir," Fred broke in with a sigh of relief. "I'm afraid you must have the wrong number."

"This is Angel Investigations, is it not?" this Draco demanded swiftly, barely allowing for her affirmation before firing off his next question. "You are operating at the Hyperion Hotel, are you not?" Another affirmative. "Do I need to speak with someone else about a reservation?" A negative. "Then what is the problem?"

"Well, you see sir…" she tried again, but he continued on. 

"So, as I was saying, I'll be arriving at three o'clock sharp. I expect a room to be ready, as I said, for an extended stay. Good day!"

There was a sharp click in Fred's ear. She pulled the phone away to look at it with a distasteful glare. Yep, Wes had warned her. And now, thanks to her absentmindedness, they had a bit of a problem on their hands. She bit her lip as she replaced the phone in its cradle. What could she do? This Malfoy fellow would show up, no doubt precisely at three, as he said and would expect a room. Here, at the newest temporary headquarters of the Slayers from Sunnydale. Fred watched the girls scurrying about the lobby, all of them attending different things. It wasn't exactly the atmosphere she believed the English fellow would want. True, they had room. But those rooms that weren't taken up by teenage bodies, or the Scooby gang were awfully dirty. There was no doubt about it, she'd have to tell Wes what she'd done, or rather hadn't been able to do.

***** 

Draco dropped the telephone as if it were scalding hot. He rubbed the ache that had formed right between his eyes over the last hour. Four blasted tries before he'd finally gotten through to the right place. He'd have to rake Granger over the coals for that one. Granted, she had tried to patiently explain the concept of the Muggle contraption numerous times to him. But he'd brushed her off. What was so hard about a telephone? You lift it up, press the number you wanted and spoke in a moderate tone to the person on the other end. Who knew about international codes and directory listings? Well, Granger did. But she could have tried harder to make him understand.

Draco glanced over at the clock Granger had left for him. He'd studied it quite a bit lately, making sure that he knew how to read it properly. Not that it was difficult; it just wasn't what he was used to. The clocks in his familial home were more geared towards letting one know that one was late, or that it was time to eat, things of that nature. He turned then and looked over the array of property he was taking along with him. And as he did, a small surge of very unfamiliar panic rose up in his stomach. He wasn't ready. He couldn't do this. It was all a mistake. He, a Pureblood Malfoy, could never pass for a Muggle.

"Granger!" he yelled as he dashed from his room at 12 Grimmauld Place. 

It took Hermione a good half-hour pep talk before Draco was able to calm down. This past year had been tough on him. First, there's been the suspicion and rancor from those that didn't believe his change of heart. And then the trials of proving himself. And then the disbelief when Dumbledore himself had put Draco in charge of Operation LA. 

With the rise of Voldemort, skirmishes between the two factions had been on the rise. Everyone had believed that the final battle would come when Potter, good old Scarhead, was still young and vulnerable. But Voldemort seemed to be biding his time, searching for something that would give him the edge. In the meanwhile, both sides were taking casualties. And they all knew that they needed help, outside help. They just didn't know where from, until a few months ago.

It was reported on the Muggle International news, about the collapse of some little town in Sunnydale. Interesting only in that it sat on a Hellmouth. Draco could recall the thrill that had shot through him at the word, but he'd tamped it down. Some habits died hard. But then, some chance comment in an interview with a survivor had piqued the interest of the wizarding community. In depth studies discovered that it was not a natural disaster that had decimated the town, but some very powerful young people. People that could possibly help them in their struggles. 

So it became Draco's very first mission, to go to these people and sound them out. He had a month to get a feel for them. There had been protests, of course that there were many other qualified people. But it had been Dumbledore's thought that of all available, only Draco would be able to sense lies, deception and concealed evil in these people. Probably because he knew them so well in himself. 

He'd been excited at first. A chance to get away from the dank, oppressive atmosphere that pervaded his late relative's home. But then he'd learned that Granger was going to be tutoring him on all things Muggle. He began to wonder then if Dumbledore hated him. But surprisingly, when all things were put aside, he and Granger were able to get down to the nitty gritty with a minimal amount of snarking at each other. He never would have admitted it in school, but Draco had a natural love of learning, anything. So he'd applied himself and after a few months was declared ready. 

But faced with the near moment of truth, he wasn't so sure he was ready. "All right," he heaved a big sigh and approached the bed. He gathered some of the maps and tourist information they'd gathered about LA. "Calm down Draco, old boy. You can do this. Malfoy's can do anything." He glanced up at the clock again. He had three hours before he needed to apparate to the secure location Dumbledore had provided. It would be up to him to get to the hotel. "A little more study and then we'll be good to go."

The calming act of reading had steadied Draco's nerves. Mrs. Weasley, really not a bad sort once one got to know her, called him down for dinner. So it was a collected, purely arrogant, in other word's, familiar Draco that sauntered into the kitchen and took up his usual position at the end of the table, removed from the others. Draco smiled to himself as talk resumed around him. Yes indeed, there would be no problems at all.

***** 

There was a problem! A big problem. Dumbledore never bothered to tell Draco that taxicabs didn't venture into this part of LA unless called. And after lugging his baggage for six blocks, only to find the public telephone would not accept the pounds he'd forgotten to exchange for American coinage, Draco was pissed. He mentally reviewed the map he'd memorized of the area. The landing point was seventeen blocks from the Hyperion. That meant he still had eleven blocks to go. With heavy bags, if they weren't stolen out from under his nose. For a moment, Draco considered a loco-motor spell, but dismissed it with a sigh. Magical Decree something or other forbade use of magic in areas loaded with Muggles. Or he could hide them and cast a blending spell on them to keep prying eyes from seeing. But there was the problem of the transients wandering around, possibly tripping over them. And again, Magical Decree whatever would have his hide nailed to the wall. So with a sigh, he hefted the bags once more, cursing himself silently for priding himself on being impeccably dressed, whatever the occasion. 

At long last, the sight of the Hyperion loomed up in his view. Relief caused his tired, aching feet to hurry now. Just a few more minutes and he could drop the bags and put up his weary limbs. But as he neared the hotel, the piercing shriek of a young girl caught his attention. Without second thought, he dropped the luggage, whipped his wand from its hidden locale and ran towards the noise. 

Given the little they knew about these people and what they dealt with, there was the very real possibility that someone was in danger. Draco raced through the wide double doors of the hotel that had been thrown open to catch the lackadaisical breeze. And stopped short. There before him, in scant shorts and tiny, cropped t-shirts, were a gaggle of teenage girls. One of which, a petite blonde was soaking wet. 

"Dawn Summers!" she screeched, "when I catch you I am going to whoop on your ass eight ways from Sunday!" The rest of the girls were laughing and pointing, some slipping off, holding what appeared to be balloons. The soaking wet girl turned to face the newcomer. "What are you staring at?" she demanded petulantly. 

Draco could feel the blush starting at the roots of his pale blonde hair, running down his face until he greatly resembled a tomato. "Uh, buh…" Did all Americans dress so skimpily? Not to mention the effects the cold water seemed to be having on the girl's anatomy. To his immense relief, a young man popped up from the middle of the group and looked around. 

Hey!" he greeted with a smile. 

"Hey," he returned the greeting weakly. The wet blonde was advancing on him now. Without thought, he raised his wand arm, completely forgetting about the wand in it. 

"You better put that away before you poke someone's eye out," the blonde instructed with a grin.

"Buffy!" the young man exclaimed. "Uh, remember what we're learning about, you know, with the not so rude anymore."

She turned back to the fellow. "I'm referring to his stick, Xander." The man's eyes widened. 

"Okay then," he sputtered. "Maybe we need lessons on appropriate behavior." The blonde rolled her eyes and pounced the last few steps to yank the wand from his suddenly nerveless hand.

"No Xander, a stick," she sighed, holding it up. "As in, made of wood, non-pointy, actually fairly straight, more like a wand than a stick." Draco froze even more when he heard her use of the word wand. Were these people aware of more than what the Order had assumed. The blonde, Buffy, turned back and tossed the wand to him. "Careful where you whip that out. Obviously some people can take it the wrong way," she ended with a cheeky grin. Draco glanced down at the wand he'd caught and hastily stuffed it in his back pocket. 

"Again with the rude, but who are you?" the man, Xander demanded easily. 

"Uh, Draco Malfoy," he replied dazedly. Xander beamed at him and gestured him in.

"Well Drake, welcome to Estrogen Central!"


	2. Part 2

Title: Roses To Remember (Part 2 of 4)

Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)

Rated- PG-13 for some mild language

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and settings belong to either Rowling or Whedon. *sigh*

Summary- Draco's a man on a mission.

Spoilers- Season 7 of Buffy, Season 4 of Angel. (Pretty much season 5 hasn't happened yet.)

Distribution: TtH, VSS and my Yahoo group

"I beg your pardon?" Draco's eyes widened. 

"Nothing, nothing," Xander waved him off. "Just referring to the fact that we're surrounded by ladies."

"Yes," Draco sneered, "I can see that." At the other man's raised eyebrow, Draco realized his mistake and hastily backpedaled. He was here to get friendly and discover information. Not teach them why he'd been called the Prince of Slytherin. "Sorry. I heard her," he gestured with his chin towards Buffy, "scream and I thought she was in danger. And then she wasn't and this wasn't at all what I was expecting and I dropped my bags, which have probably been stolen by some homeless person who won't appreciate the stylishness of my clothes, which by the way came from-!"

"He's babbling," the one called Xander grinned The blonde rolled her eyes. 

"I do not babble!" Draco erupted. This was all becoming too much. He'd expected things to go smoothly, as they usually did for him. He was supposed to meet the small group of people that led to the downfall of the Hellmouth, get the information and get out. 

"Wow!" Xander chuckled. "From zero to snark in two point oh seconds. That's pretty good." He turned once more to the girl. "What do you think Buff? Is he like, schizophrenic?"

She shook her head, one strand of wet hair plastered to her cheek. "That's when you hear voices."

"Well then what am I thinking of?" he furrowed his brow in a mock expression of concentration.

"M.P.D," she responded dryly. 

"Must Put Down?" he shook his head. "Nah, I don't think that's it. I mean, sure I'll take a crack at the withering commentary styling a la the Summers women, but I'm more of the crack a joke at his expense kind of guy"

"No Xander," the blonde giggled. "Multiple person disorder. And I don't think babble is a symptom."

"Well it could be," he laughed. "I mean, look at Willow, she's-!"

"Xander!" her tone was warning, yet playful. 

Draco couldn't help but feel as if he were watching a highly paced Quidditch match, trying to keep an eye on the quaffle that was volleying between the two at such a high speed that he felt dizzy. Finally he had to put in his two pounds. "Are you all on drugs?" he demanded, taking in their amused expressions. 

"Not that we're aware of," Buffy winked at him. He really was kind of cute, all sputtery and seething-like. Xander, catching the look in his friend's gleaming eyes, decided that enough was enough. 

"So, what can we do you for?" he asked swiftly, causing the blonde male's penetrating gaze to focus on him. Which, while kind of scary in a Psycho way, was good in that he'd successfully distracted him from the Buffster. 

"I beg your pardon?" Draco asked again. This was becoming more of a nightmare than he'd imagined it would be just a few short hours ago in the relative comfort of his room in London. 

"The reason you're here?" Xander clarified. 

"Oh, right, yes," Draco felt a frision of relief. Finally, they were getting on to the reason he'd come here. "Could I speak to the person in charge, please?"

"That'd be me?" Buffy pointed to herself with one hand, then went back to wringing dry her mass of hair. Draco goggled at her once more.

"You are the proprietor of this hotel?"

"Huh?" she grimaced, then thought his words through. "Oh, no, not that." She looked thoughtful a moment. "Let me go get Wes."

"Thank you," Draco didn't know which was greater at the moment, his relief that she was taking her wet self from his presence, or the hope that he'd be able to talk to someone sane. 

"Why don't we go get your bags," Xander suggested. Draco looked puzzled for a moment. "Your bags. You said you dropped them. Wouldn't want any of your stylish clothing to be stolen."

"Indeed!"

They hurried back to the main gate and Draco let out a whispered sigh of relief when he caught sight of both bags. Not that he'd had to spend a large amount of money to acquire the essentials packed within. But how on earth would he manage without them? It wasn't as if he could magically produce what he needed with all these people milling about. 

The return trip was short, of course. And Draco searched out whoever the operator of the hotel was supposed to be immediately. He was sure that it hadn't been the blonde, Buffy, that he'd talked to earlier over the telephone. His eyes picked out two new people when they returned to the lobby. They came forward and the greeting from the woman let him know that she was the one he'd spoken with. Her softly accented voice was familiar in this land of strangeness.

"Mr. Malfoy?" the man asked. Draco nodded, grateful to hear the familiar tones of his homeland. 

"Yes," he replied, extending his hand. The man took it. 

"Wesley Wyndham-Pryce," the other man offered. They shook hands and the other Brit pulled back a little. He ran a comforting hand over the girl's shoulder as she winced. "I'm afraid there's been a misunderstanding."

"Has there?" Draco asked sharply. So now it began. He knew this moment would come, as he was perfectly aware that the Hyperion was not being used for its original purpose. This was where hopefully, his natural arrogance would pay off. 

"Yes," Wesley continued. "You see, we do operate a business here, or we did. We are currently moving locations as we speak. But we've not operated a hotel at all here. We are an Investigation firm."

"And you are investigating these young ladies about us for exactly what?" Draco smirked.

"They are friends of ours," Wesley explained, his tone frosty, obviously resenting the implication that anything untoward was happening. "We are merely providing them with shelter until they are able to make their way back to their homes."

"They're runaways?" Draco kept pressing on relentlessly. He was hoping that if he pushed hard enough, they'd cave in, for now at least. 

"Not quite," the woman, Fred broke in. "Their homes were destroyed in a natural disaster recently. They had no where else to go at that time."

"All of their homes were destroyed?" Draco asked, seeming to be disbelieving. 

"In Sunnydale, yes," Wesley nodded. Draco pretended to look thoughtful.

"I'd heard about that," he mused. "But wasn't that several months ago now?"

"Yes," Wesley was almost gritting his teeth now. "As I said, arrangements are being made…"

"Well then," Draco beamed at him. "It surely wouldn't be too much of an imposition to provide a room for me as well. I'm sure a hotel this grand has ample room." He sighed. "I'm more than prepared to pay well."

"It's not that," Wesley protested. "It's just, well, it's not our decision to make."

"Who's is it then?" the younger Brit demanded sharply. There were more people to meet? 

"Our employer," Wesley shrugged. "He'll be returning this evening."

"Very well then," Draco nodded sharply. "Perhaps there is somewhere that I can put my luggage until he returns and I can discuss this matter with him." He used the patented Malfoy stare at the man and as he'd hoped, the slight figure backed down. 

"Well, I suppose it can't hurt," Wesley muttered, glancing back at the assembled throng of girls. "Not for a few hours at any rate."

"Excellent!" Draco grinned, acting as if he had the man's full approval. He gathered his luggage once more and stared at them expectantly. Wesley heaved a sigh and turned to Fred.

"Could you?" he asked. The girl nodded. She began to lead him away, through the crowd that had parted before them, all the girls with their eyes trained on them. He was used to stares and whispered comments, but never before had they come from such a concentration of how that bloke Xander had put it. From such a concentration of women. Draco had to keep his smile to himself as a whispered argument between Buffy and Wesley filtered through to him. She didn't seem very happy about his decision. Something about the girls being her responsibility. And Wesley replying that Angel would take care of it all. There was such finality in that, that Draco felt a shudder go up his spine. 

Once they'd reached the stairs, the noise and activity level picked up again. Unfortunately, a blur appeared out of nowhere before him. Draco hastily stepped back; teetering on the step he was on before his natural agility caught him from falling back. Fred gasped, her hands wringing until Draco regained his balance. There was a hurried 'sorry' thrown his way. Draco turned to watch the rude child who'd pushed her way past him. She stopped at the lower landing, leaning over the railing, panting.

"Buffy! Willow's awake!" the girl yelped. About thirty heads shot up, panic on their faces. 

"Is she getting up?" Buffy asked even as the girl nodded. "Well, distract her Dawn! Don't let her come down here."

"Too late!" one of the other girls warned. Draco turned to see the new figure they were staring at. A young lady was slowly descending the stairs above him. She was dressed simply, in the jeans that Americans so loved, a baby blue T-shirt closely conforming to her womanly curves. But Draco was relieved to see that her clothes weren't nearly as tight as the others had been. She was pale skinned, obviously not spending much time in the California sun. And her hair! A glorious shade of red. Much more dignified than that glaring shade that proclaimed the Weasley family. She smiled gently at him before turning to survey the group below them. 

"Hey," she greeted softly, but in a voice that carried well. "What's going on?" No one answered but for Buffy and Xander to come running up the steps. Again, Draco was pushed aside as if he barely existed. 

"Wills!" Buffy twittered nervously, exchanging a hurried glance with the male. "What are you doing up?"

"Buff, it's four-thirty in the afternoon," she smiled, trying to see around Xander, who'd placed himself in front of her. 

"But you were gonna take a nap Willow," Xander exclaimed. "What happened to the nap? Did you not feel nappy? 'Cause you look tired. You should have your nap Willow. Don't want sleepy Willow. We want perky, fun Willow." At her mildly surprised look and the dark one shot to him by Buffy, he hastily covered. "Not that you're not fun, perky Willow. I mean, I know Kennedy leaving was rough. I mean, I don't know-!"

"It's fine Xander," Willow half-smiled. "I did take a nap. But I didn't want to sleep all afternoon and then be awake all night." She tried to look around him again. "So what are you all up to?" Amused suspicion was in her tone. And Draco didn't blame her. If he'd thought their reaction to him was strange, well at least he could be relieved that it seemed to be an ongoing epidemic and not just him. 

"Nothing!" the two protested together. Willow did not look convinced. 

"Oh, then you won't mind me going downstairs and getting something to eat?" she teasingly asked. Their eyes widened and they shook their heads. 

"We'll bring something to you!" Buffy blurted out suddenly. "Xander's right, you do look tired. You go rest; we'll bring up a tray. Or Dawn can." 

"But I'm not tired," she shrugged, her eyes twinkling merrily. Draco could see that although he had no idea what was going on, the redhead certainly seemed to and was enjoying seeing her friends squirm. Well, he didn't care what she had over them; he was enjoying their discomfort as well. She was playing them to perfection. And they didn't even realize it. 

"Come on," Xander tried to pull his friend back up the steps, but she hesitated. "Don't make me spank you. Unless you want to be spanked? I haven't given you your birthday spanks yet. Yeah, we can do that."

"Xander!" she giggled, glancing at the newcomer with a slight flush on her face. Finally, Fred came to their rescue.

"Willow? Could I ask you a favor?" she spoke just as softly as the other girl had. But it was effective in catching their attention. The redhead nodded. Fred gestured to Draco at her side. "This is Mr. Malfoy. Could you show him up to a room? He needs to speak with Angel later on and I really need to get back to packing up my files."

"Of course Fred," Willow gave in graciously. Xander let go of her arm at her pointed glance to it and stepped back. "Follow me," she instructed the blonde. He did so gratefully.

She took him up a few floors, then down a long, poorly lit hallway until she reached the last door on the right. The door opened, not having been locked. She led him in, then turned to watch as he set his luggage just inside the door and then took in the décor. He grimaced slightly and she guessed that it wasn't what he was used to. 

"It's quite, well-preserved," he finally managed. Willow smiled and nodded. She hated to make snap judgements, but he looked like someone who was accustomed to demanding and receiving the best in life. She was glad to see that maybe he didn't have the attitude to go with all that spoilage. 

"The key for the door is in the drawer by the bed," she informed him. "The light switches work. And I was bored this morning, so I cleaned up, dusted, vacuumed, scrubbed the bathroom. All that stuff."

"Oh, don't tell me I'm putting you from your room?" Draco looked slightly uncomfortable at that thought.

"Oh no!" Willow grinned. "I did my room last night. I'm just across the hall." She moved to look out the window. "This room was just recently vacated. But you and I are the only ones at this end." She glanced back at him. "I kind of like my privacy. I thought you might too."

"Yes, thank you," he felt suddenly tongue-tied. She turned, as if to leave and he blurted out without thought, "you don't have to go." She raised a simple eyebrow at him. "I mean, if you don't want to. Your friends don't seem to want you downstairs." She ducked her head and he felt like kicking himself. _'Oh, way to go Draco. The first sane person you meet in this blasted country and you make her feel bad.'_ But she had a humungous smile on her face when she looked at him again.

"Don't mind them," she giggled. "See, it's my birthday today. And they're trying to plan a surprise party for me."

"But you know all about it?" he observed, somehow amused that she had seen right through them. 

"Of course," she shrugged. "We've been friends a long time. There's not much they can keep from me." She fiddled with the hem of her shirt a moment and he could see that she was hesitant about intruding.

"You know," he grimaced, "it's my first time in Los Angeles. Perhaps you could tell me a little bit about it?" He flashed her the most devastating smile in his arsenal. She smiled in return and he felt his heart flutter at the loveliness her features made. 

"I'd be happy to Mr. Malfoy," she nodded. 

"Just one thing though," he grinned at her sudden look of a deer caught in the headlights. "Call me Draco."

"Oh, of course," she sighed. "But you must call me Willow."

"Not a problem. Not a problem at all."

AN2- Well, it looks like things are going to get really fun the next chapter. Stay tuned!


	3. Part 3

Title: Roses To Remember (Part 3 of 4)

Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)

Rated- PG-13 for some mild language

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and settings belong to either Rowling or Whedon. *sigh*

Summary- Draco's a man on a mission.

Spoilers- Season 7 of Buffy, Season 4 of Angel. (Pretty much season 5 hasn't happened yet.) (Eep, forgot this before!) For HP- set six years after OoTP. (Just so Willow isn't cradle-robbing)

Distribution: TtH, VSS and my Yahoo group

"Oh, you're having me on!" Draco laughed. "You can't honestly tell me that Xander isn't loving being surrounded by all these women."

"Well, at first he did," Willow chuckled along with him. She drew up the leg that had been dangling off the edge of the bed. While under the pretense of settling herself, cross-legged, she studied the man across from her. He was leaning against the headboard, fairly relaxed. Willow had the impression that he didn't often relax. "See, Xander lived with all us girls for a while, so he got quite the wake-up call."

"How so?" Draco was still amused by the various stories Willow had shared about her friends. Even knowing that she was holding something back, she had to be, there were still plenty of tales of mayhem in the form of public embarrassment. He'd shared a few of his own; he was already that comfortable with her. Naturally, he'd left out the nature of the school and how the "pranks" were accomplished. But she got the idea. He recognized the hesitation in her voice because it mirrored his own. But he made no outward sign of interest in pushing her. He knew it to be the quickest way for her to be turned off opening up to him. 

"Well," Willow began her answer, a gleam in her eye. "he went from being the fairly typical, oblivious male to the…" she paused, trying to think of a phrasing that wouldn't embarrass either of them. "Well, let's just say that the girls began to forget that he was even there and he got a little too much information." She smiled as he cracked up again. What she didn't realize that living at Hogwart's was a similar situation. He'd lost count of the number of "private, girly" conversations he and his friends had walked in on in the Slytherin common room. It happened every year, until the first years smartened up enough to take their conversations to their dormitories. 

He leaned forward, his hand reaching for the last sandwich, just as Willow began to as well. Their fingers bumped, in mid air, and Draco snatched his hand back hurriedly, startled by the little jolt of electricity that passed between them. "What the bloody hell was that?" he murmured, shocked. 

"Um, static electricity?" Willow offered swiftly, her mind whirling. She'd never had that happen before, just from random touch. It had been a long while since her magic spontaneously combusted like that. Draco raised his eyebrows and she giggled nervously. "I guess this means we have a spark between us."

"I guess we do," he smiled slowly, almost feral. He looked down at their hands, then beyond them to the plate. "But please, go ahead," he added, gesturing to the sandwich. 

"Geez Draco," Willow sighed good-naturedly as she picked up the peanut butter and banana sandwich that Dawn had prepared and broke it apart, "did no one teach you to share?"

"As an only child, it didn't seem like an imperative lesson," he smirked, accepting the food from her. She scoffed at him.

"That's no excuse!"

"And you would know how?"

"Hey, you don't hold the patent on only childness you know," she huffed, trying to look put out, but failing miserably. 

"Ah, something we have in common," Draco nodded thoughtfully as he chewed. "That and the belief that your friend is too hormonal for his own good."

It was amazing how easily they had fell into conversation, and kept falling. There were no awkward moments, stilted words or uncomfortable pauses. Even when Dawn had arrived with the tray of food, they'd barely paused to express appreciation to the girl. Dawn had given Willow a speculative look. Most likely because of the lively flush of Willow's cheeks and had dashed off again, making Draco wonder if the teenager ever slowed down. Since then, as they ate, they'd covered a wide range of topics in general. Both knew, sensed that the other was holding something back. It was only natural if one thought about it, as they'd only just met. 

They'd continued to talk the topic moving on to Draco's home and Willow sharing that she'd been in England the year before. They continued to discover each others likes and dislikes, the things they had in common, places they'd been, what their early childhood had been like. And when Willow had discovered that he'd never had an extremely large, raucous birthday party, she insisted that he attend hers. Draco was ridiculously pleased to be included so easily. 

It would certainly give him the chance to get to know Willow even better. _'Wait, where did that thought come from?'_ Draco asked himself quickly, forcibly reminding himself of the true reason that he was there. Willow was just one aspect of the whole picture. _'And a very nice aspect she is,'_ his mind drawled naughtily. He shook his head slightly.

Despite what rumors Pansy Parkinson had started about him, Draco had never played fast and loose in the sex department. One-night stands were for the most part unfulfilling. Not to mention something of a hassle in terms of health. One never knew what one was getting into; the other's past possibly haunting one in the future. So, while he'd had his share of liaisons, Draco had always made sure that both parties were going into it with both eyes open. In other words, no romantic entanglements. 

Finally, the sun had begun to set. Willow rolled over onto her back. She and Draco had been lying on the bed, crosswise, still chatting. She held up her arm, checking the time on her watch. "Oh my Goddess!" she exclaimed, realizing how late it was getting. "I need to get changed." She pushed herself up from the bed, then turned to look at where her new friend was still reclining. "Are you sure you want to come? I mean it's going to be pretty silly. Just a bunch of teenagers for the most part letting off some steam."

"I'm game if you are," Draco reassured her. "Are you still game?"

"Well, you know," Willow shrugged, "the girls just wanna have fun." Her eyes grew large and she buried her face in her hands. "Did I actually say that?" 

Draco watched as the flush of her cheeks grew into a healthy stain of red. He cocked his head to the side, reviewing her statement. What was it, some muggle cultural reference? "Well, you did," he confirmed. "Although it completely escapes me."

"Guessing Cyndi Lauper wasn't all that big in England," Willow chuckled. 

"Not particularly," Draco shrugged, the name given still meaning nothing to him. 

"Well, it's still better than the 'I Touch Myself' incident," she mumbled. Her mouth dropped open as she realized she'd said it out loud. And that he'd heard her.

"What's this then?" he drawled, barely believing his ears. 

"N-nothing," Willow stammered, her eyes fixed on his amused face. 

"Oh come now Willow," he smirked, pulling himself to a stand. He advanced on her, slowly, prepared to worm this new story out of her. But she was too quick for him. She whirled around and ran for the door. 

"I have to change!" she squealed as she wrenched the door open. Only to run into a solid wall of Vampiric flesh. "Oh! Angel, hi! Sorry, didn't mean to bump into you."

"It's okay Willow," the newcomer growled. The redhead studied him for a moment. 

"You just talked to Buffy, didn't you?" she sighed. She didn't need his nod for confirmation. She could see the storm brewing beyond the normal anguish that occurred when those two were together. 

"Among other things," he sighed. He looked past her to Draco. "But Wes said I needed to talk to Malfoy here."

"Okay," Willow nodded sadly. Even long years of accepting that this was the way things were, it still broke her heart a little. She turned back to Draco. "See you in a bit." Draco nodded as she slipped past the large man. They studied each other, the silence growing to unbearable awkwardness. Finally, Draco stepped forward, his hand held out. The other man just stared at it.

"Who are you?" he demanded bluntly. Draco jerked a little at the abruptness of the question and the hostility behind it. He should have known that there would have been someone showing a tad bit of vigilance. 

"I thought Mr. Wyndam-Pryce told you," Draco felt it best to ease into things with this one. Something was very off-putting about the man. There was a cold, hard veneer to his face that bespoke of more pain and wariness than Draco could imagine acquiring in five lifetimes, let alone one. "I am Draco Malfoy."

"Why are you here?"

"Here in LA, or this hotel?" he hedged. 

"Either."

"I'm in LA to conclude a long ago contract my father had," Draco lied easily. Although only partially so. "And as to this hotel, my grandparents spoke often of it in my childhood. They'd stayed here many years go and my grandfather always wished to return. I was curious."

"How long?" Angel demanded, his eyes narrowing even more. 

"How long is my business trip?" Draco tried playing dumb. He'd seen where the other man's interest lay. 

"How long ago did they stay here?" Angel demanded. He studied Draco, as if searching for something, a hidden clue. 

"I believe it was in the forties'," he offered casually, not about to let on that he was studying Angel just as intently. He repressed a small shudder of fear as the man took a step forward. 

"And your business?"

"Is my own," Draco sneered. He'd about had enough of the man's attitude. It was all well and good to be on guard, but he honestly thought that the amount of suspicion the other man was giving off would lead to ulcers, if not an early grave. 

"Humor me," Angel growled, taking another step forward. Something flashed in his eyes and it took most of Draco's considerable willpower not to step back. 

"I will be meeting with Wolfram and Hart about a contract my father concluded with them," he began. Only to be cut off by suddenly flying through the air to be slammed up against the far wall, Angel's arm cutting off his oxygen supply.

"I was wondering when you'd show up," Angel growled, his features shifting to game face. Draco gasped, partly in effort to breathe, partly from fear as he realized why he'd felt such coldness from the being before him. Draco's mind whirled as realization struck him. The man was not Angel, owner of Angel Investigations, and not a man. He was the Vampire Angelus. The name echoed in Draco's mind. He cursed himself a fool for not making the connection. But he'd had no idea. The last his textbooks had mentioned, Angelus had been cursed by a gypsy clan and had disappeared from Europe. The last thought to flow through his increasingly numb mind was _'where the bloody hell is a wand when you need one?'_

"Draco!" a feminine, vaguely familiar shriek caught his attention. With a suddenness that jolted through his body, he was released. He slid down the wall where Angelus had suspended him in a death grip to see the Vampire flying backwards. He gasped for breath, rubbing his throat with one hand, while the other scrabbled for the wand in his back pocket. But there, in the doorway was his own angel. 

Willow had heard the thump from Draco's room, and knowing Angel's temper after run ins with Buffy, had worried instantly. She'd dashed in to see Angel choking the Englishman. She didn't stop to consider her reaction, only knowing that she had to stop him from doing something he'd regret. She reacted with gut instinct, using her mostly dormant until needed power to simply separate Angel from the other man. She rushed to stand between the two, somehow registering that Angel was the bigger threat at the moment and so not turning her back to him. 

"What's the matter with you Angel?" she yelled as he rolled over and stood. 

"He's a spy!" he yelled right back, gesturing to Draco. The blonde's eyes went wide as he sucked in air sharply. How the hell had he figured it out? "For Wolfram & Hart!" the Vampire clarified at Willow's dumbfounded expression. Draco exhaled a sigh of relief. Then narrowed his eyes. No wonder this Vampire had survived as long as he had, if he was always so mistrusting of those around him. 

But while the only threat to Draco was for his personal safety and he was now on guard, it was the mistrust now in Willow's eyes that cut through him. He thrust away from the wall, stalking to the smaller bag he'd brought with him. His movements were harsh, yanking open the side zipper to extract a file. Many months ago, he'd had the considerable task of going through his father's business dealings, something his mother had kept putting off after Lucius' death. He'd barely noticed the communications from the law office, aside from liking their name. But at this crucial time, he'd remembered the letterhead stating the various offices around the world, with one in LA. He'd charmed the letter, making it so that it appeared to have come from the LA office, therefore offering at least a modicum of proof to his cover story. 

He stalked back to Angel, thrusting the file into his hands. "My father died and my mother was concerned by a clause in the agreement. After dickering around at the London firm, I decided it best to come straight to the source and deal with this." Angel eyed him speculatively, then slowly opened the folder. There before him was the now familiar letterhead. He sighed, his features sliding back to his human façade, but still not completely trusting this man. Wolfram and Hart had been the bane of the last four years of his life. And even though he was now at the helm, he'd been wondering what trick the senior partners might pull to throw him off balance. He snapped the folder shut and handed it back to Draco. 

"I suppose you'd like me to take my bags and leave then?" Draco sneered. If worse came to worse, he'd leave. It wouldn't be easy as hoped to accomplish his objective. But initial contact had been made. He could always play upon that. 

"No, you can stay," Angel offered monotonously. "A smart man keeps his friends close…"

"And his enemies closer," Draco finished for him. He sighed and ran a hand through his short locks. "I'm not your enemy, but I understand." Angel nodded once and departed, as silently as he usually did. 

"I'm so sorry Draco," Willow murmured, unable to meet his eyes. For years, they'd been hearing about the evil law firm, so her mistrust had some basis. But she felt a heel for giving in to it so quickly. And just as disconcerting, the fact that she'd used her magic to help him. She had no idea what he'd think of that.

"It's all right," he reached out to pat her on the shoulder. She smiled up at him hesitantly. "That was quite a display. How did you manage to get him off me?" He had a fairly good idea, but needed to hear her say it to confirm his suspicions.

"Well," she swallowed nervously. She looked up at his face, realizing suddenly that over the last few hours, he'd made no judgments about her or her life. Maybe this would be the same way. After all, once she'd learned to accept the things that made her different, she'd also learned that it was useless to hide what she was. Useless to run away from it. "I'm a witch." 

"A witch?" he asked, trying again for disbelieving. "Really? I'm afraid I-!"

"Don't believe me?" she asked breathlessly. "Oh Goddess, I knew it!" she moaned, burying her face in her hands. Draco smiled softly, reaching out to tilt her chin up with his finger. 

"I believe," he chuckled. "How could I not after what you just did?" She nodded, a little unsure still. "I was going to say, that I don't see that as a problem. As long as you, say, don't use it on me." She laughed, the tension of the moment broken by his utter acceptance and teasing. 

"As long as you don't give me reason to," she warned playfully.

"Heaven forbid," he moaned, forcing a shudder. 

"And about Angel," she whispered, fiddling her fingers nervously.

"He's a Vampire," Draco spoke for her. "I noticed that."

"You know?" her eyebrows shot up. Draco smirked. "About Vampires I mean?"

"I was aware of them, yes," he offered, the rubbed his throat. "Although that was the first run-in I'd ever had."

"You're not scared of him?" she asked, her confusion mounting. She was still so used to the utter ignorance displayed by the majority of the population in Sunnydale. 

"Well," Draco frowned, wondering how to explain this. "You seem to be okay with it, and I think I trust your judgement." He paused to give her a look of appeal. "Besides, if he tries to, oh, I don't know, suck my blood, you'll protect me, won't you?" She giggled and nodded. He stepped back a little and took in her attire. "Well, I must say, you look stunning." And she did, the simple black sheath dress of velvet conforming all the way down her body to swirl gracefully around her ankles. Her arms were bare and he could see the little hairs on her arm standing up as a shiver ran through her. 

"I still need my shoes," she grinned, poking out one unclad foot. "And to do my hair."

"Well, while you do that, I'll shower and change," he decided, "and meet you in say, twenty minutes?" She nodded and he gently nudged her towards the door. "And Willow? Leave your hair down. It looks absolutely lovely that way." Her hand flew to the disheveled mess, trying to decide if he was teasing or not. 

***** 

In the prescribed twenty minutes, Draco was ready and standing outside the door to her room. He'd slicked his hair back in its usual manner, and dressed in black dress slacks and an ice blue dress shirt that his mother had chosen for him. In his hand, he held a little surprise for the birthday girl. He shifted around to where he could knock. The door swung open and he suddenly forgot his body's need for breath. 

"Oh Draco," Willow sighed softly in appreciation. "Are those for me?" Draco looked down stupidly. Oh yes, the flowers. He held them out to her and she took the vase from him. "Oh, I love peach roses," she grinned happily, stepping back to let him in. She held the bouquet up to her face and breathed in the scent, not realizing what her simple gesture of appreciation was doing to his libido. 

"T-there's one there for every day I hope to see you," he managed to stammer hoarsely. She glanced up in surprise, then quickly counted. 

"Twenty-eight?" she asked, waiting for him to confirm. He nodded. 

"Four weeks," he grinned, reaching out to draw a finger down the side of her cheek. "Somehow it doesn't seem long enough."

"Then we'll just have to make the most of every day," she decided firmly. She set the vase on the dresser, angling the vanity mirror to multiply the appearance. It seemed as if the whole dresser was filled with roses. She leaned over to inhale the fragrance once more. 

"Well," Draco cleared his throat, holding out his arm. "Shall we go?"

"Yup," Willow giggled as she took his arm. "Let's get this party started!"

He escorted her towards the stairs. "You do know that you're friends are going to be disappointed that you're all dressed up for an event of which you were to have no knowledge."

"They'll deal," Willow replied smugly. "But what I'm wondering…"

"Yes?"

"When on earth did you have time to get me flowers?"

"Ah, I have my ways Willow," he teased, not ready to trust his secret to her yet. And only because telling her meant telling everyone else as well. 

"Draco!" she protested. He stopped and moved his hand to grasp hers gently. 

"How about I tell you later?" he teased. She tilted her head, then nodded. "On one condition."

"What's that?" she asked suspiciously. 

"That you have dinner with me tomorrow night," he trapped her neatly. She rolled her eyes then nodded. He for once didn't have to fake the pleasure that turned the corners of his mouth up. Because of course, there would always be a later. He turned once more to the head of the stairs. "Well, are you ready?"

"All set," she nodded.

"Then let's go."


	4. Part 4

Title: Roses To Remember (Part 4 of 4)

Author: Restive Nature (aka Bavite)

Rated- PG-13 for some mild language

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and settings belong to either Rowling or Whedon. *sigh*

Summary- Draco's a man on a mission.

Spoilers- Season 7 of Buffy, Season 4 of Angel. (Pretty much season 5 hasn't happened yet.) For HP- set six years after OoTP. (Just so Willow isn't cradle-robbing)

Distribution: TtH, VSS and my Yahoo group

The evening was almost perfect. Almost, not because Angel set himself off in a corner and got steadily more drunk as the evening wore on, often throwing hurt glances Buffy's way. Glances that the blonde studiously ignored. Almost, not because Xander tried to use every opportunity to make fun of Draco and so get the attention of his best friend back on him. Almost, not because of the hundreds of little things that always seemed to happen when Hellmouth alumni got together. But almost because both Willow and Draco knew the evening would have to end some time, giving them one less day of friendship and togetherness. 

So they stayed together as much as possible. Draco behaved as gentlemanly as possible. Bringing Willow food, refilling her drink, squiring her around to the various people she wanted to talk to. She tried introducing him to each and every one of the girls But his mind, more attuned to her, couldn't concentrate on the girls who were giggling and whispering about them. Normally, he would have given the girls a cool stare until they stammered to a stand still and blushed at being caught out, but for Willow's sake, he refrained. 

Music had started up, about halfway through the evening. Not the kind that Draco was used to, by a long shot. But not even the slow, gentle, quiet background filler. No, this was as Willow promised; raucous noise that prompted a body to move with it's thrumming rhythm. Except that Willow didn't seem inclined to move. She would much rather watch Xander and Dawn spazz their way around the room. And Draco, so amused by their antics at this point, largely from the few mixed drinks he'd indulged in, did not protest. He knew now, that if ever he should need some get-back on the boy, he could just bring up the dancing. 

It was at this point that the first Hellmouthy disturbance of the party occurred. Fairly mild by later standards. Willow had excused herself a moment, explaining that she wanted to make sure that Buffy, who'd slipped out the front doors a minute before, was okay. And Angel used that opportunity to yank Draco from the festivities. And the blonde Englishman was treated to a long-winded, drunken ramble as to why he was going to be killed. Apparently, from what Draco could gather, Wolfram & Hart had long been a thorn in Angel's side. And just because Angel had given in and taken over the LA offices, was it in no way, an invitation for spies to pry into his private life. And Draco could only assume the Vampire meant what things were going on in the hotel. 

He tried to reiterate that he wasn't a spy for the law firm, but Angel just threw him out of the way and headed off for the rapidly depleted supply of scotch. With an annoyed roll of his eyes, he pulled himself up and straightened his clothes. He saw Willow and Buffy making their way back into the lobby and with a relieved smile, headed off to the one person here he felt comfortable with. 

But then the brunette, well, one of many there delayed him. He tried to remember her name and went with a hunch. "Faith?" She nodded, even as she pressed herself up close to him. "Ah well, if you'll excuse me, I need to get-!"

"Get back to Willow?" she laughed, mockingly. He glared down at her, realizing that like many of the others, she was inebriated as well. He glanced back to Willow, a pleading look on his face. He certainly didn't want her getting the wrong idea. But it seemed she already had. He tilted his head, hoping to convey silently that this was not what he wanted. The redhead tilted her head down to hear what her friend was saying to her and a knowing smirk crossed her face. "Come on, yo!" Faith laughed. "I just want to dance!" She yelled it loudly enough for everyone to hear and Draco caught the exasperated look on his friend's face. She gave him a slight nod and he allowed himself to be pulled after the strong brunette onto the space cleared for dancing. There were more woman of course, than men, so he soon found himself in the midst of a bevy of girls all vying for his attention. Once upon a time, that would have been a fantasy come true, for any hormonal teenage boy. But all Draco felt was the overwhelming suffocation of their various perfumes. Just as he began to shift and shimmy out of the crowd, the entire air of the hotel changed. 

The girls still danced, as Draco made his way to Willow and Buffy. But both girls were glancing around nervously. "What's going on?" he panted. 

"Don't know," Willow whispered, her eyes scanning the room. 

"Stay put," Buffy warned, one hand hovering over the back of the waistband of her jeans. 

"Oh, Faith's got it!" Willow crowed. Buffy relaxed, if only marginally. Draco watched for a moment, completely confused. The girls that had been dancing around them had now surrounded a new fellow.

"Who's that?" he whispered to Willow, having more than an ounce of sympathy for the man, who was looking just as nervous as he himself had felt a few minutes ago. 

"Don't know," Willow shrugged. "Never seen him before in my life."

"Demon," Buffy warned quietly. Then began to giggle. The girls surrounding the man seemed not to want anything to get in the way of their good time. 

"Anyone wanna see this guy boogey?" one of the girls yelled out. The man… well demon looked terrified. There were cheers and applause and soon, it looked like a game of hacky sack as the girls took turns kicking and punching the demon in a large circle. If Draco hadn't felt a little sorry for the bloke, he was sure he'd be laughing like the rest of them. 

The demon didn't even try to get a shot in, just cowered as he was punched and kicked along to the next dancing girl-fiend. But it all came to an end when a commanding feminine voice shouted out from behind them. "Stop!" 

The trio of Willow, Buffy and Draco whirled around. Draco raised his eyebrow, taking in the dark-haired woman before him. She was dressed prettily enough, but seemed almost too ethereal for the clothes she wore. In her arms, she held a wrapped, squirming bundle. Draco heard a low growl and glanced over to see that Buffy was holding a long piece of wood threateningly before herself. 

"Drusilla," she greeted the woman in what Draco could only call a pleasant voice, but even he could sense the underlying threat underneath it. "What brings you, so stupidly here?"

"My friend said there was a party," the woman, in a lower class British accent replied. She eyed Buffy warily. 

"Your friend?" Buffy scoffed. "And which insane part of your brain do you call friend again?"

"Scifigurl2001," Dru murmured dreamily.

"Huh?" Buffy was not alone in her confusion. Until they heard the nervous gasp behind them. Draco turned to see the young lady from that afternoon, Fred, come forward. 

"Oh my God," she whispered, her eyes wide. "You're darkgoddessofnightstars, aren't you?" Dru nodded happily. Fred turned to Wes; "I've been consorting with the enemy."

"Well," he shrugged helplessly. 

"It's okay," Willow offered. "That happens when you're in chat rooms. You never really know whom you might be talking to. Believe me, I know."

But then, drunken Angel made another reappearance, from the office he'd hidden himself in. "Dru! What the hell are you doing here?"

"Hello Daddy!" she waved at him cheerfully, then held up the bundle she'd been holding. "I brought a present for the birthday girl." All eyes turned to Willow.

"Ah, oh, Dru, um," she stammered nervously as the brunette held it out to her. "You shouldn't have. Really!"

"But the stars told me you'd like it," Dru pouted. "I won it specially for you." She turned back to Fred. "I learned how to play poker. But they didn't like it when I won. The stars were whisperin' in my ear. Tellin' me what to do. They said I cheated! So I killed 'em. All except my Aloysius. Won my kittens fair and square."

"It's a kitten?" Willow asked. Dru nodded and took a tiny step forward, and Willow gingerly took the bundle from her. She pulled back the slightly worn blanket it had been wrapped in, her nervousness displayed openly. For all she knew, coming from Dru, it was a demon cat. But when the tiny face buried among the folds looked up at her, Willow felt her heart melt a little. "Oh," she sighed. "She looks just like Miss Kitty Fantastico."

"Happy birthday Willow," Dru nodded, pleased with herself. But her gaze turned back to Buffy and the stake the blonde was still holding. Buffy dropped her glance to it as well; shrugged once and thrust it back into it's hiding spot. 

"Just this once Dru," she warned. The brunette nodded. Then leaned towards Draco.

"She's very merry you know," Dru whispered conspiratorially, nodding towards Willow.

"Ah, yes," he gulped, definitely feeling the vibe from her that had bothered the others. "I had noticed that. 

"No you didn't," Dru smirked. "But the worms say it won't matter. You'll wiggle about, burrow in deep and make a home. Just like they do."

"Oh, well, ah, t-thank you," Draco stammered. He felt Willow's hand creep into his and he gripped it tightly, his only other show of the tension he was feeling. Drusilla nodded regally then focused on Fred.

"Fred, dearie," she spoke a little louder to be heard, "call me!" She wiggled her thumb and pinkie fingers about her head, as she'd seen so many other humans do, (although for some reason, humans did it about their ear, crazy, in her opinion) and then turned to Angel. "Good bye Daddy. Don't call me."

"You can count on it," the inebriated Vampire grunted and turned back to his alcohol. 

"Aloysius, come!" Dru snapped her fingers and stamped her foot, and slowly, the ring around the demon parted. The poor abused thing limped off, wondering if perhaps he might be better off staying with the girl-fiends that beat him, rather than the crazy Vampiress But as she commanded, so he followed. The group could hear them arguing on the way out, Drusilla demanding that he drop his ugly human façade. 

Buffy and Willow turned to face one another. Their gaze both dropped to the kitten and they burst out laughing. Soon the whole room was in stitches. The party continued on, with one new addition to it, an absolutely lovely little kitten.

***** 

"Well, here we are," Willow chuckled nervously, as they stood in the end of the hall. She turned to face Draco, looking up at him shyly. He'd been so wonderful all evening, predicting her every need, but never in an overbearing manner. He'd stayed by her side, even putting up with listening to Angel sing 'happy birthday' to her in his less than pleasant voice. He'd held her arm when he escorted her back up to the room, the sounds of those still partying fading slowly from their ears. 

Draco smiled down at her, enjoying her simple enjoyment of being with her friends. Even through all the twists the evening had provided. His glance dropped down to the kitten in her arms. Even knowing who had procured it for her didn't stop her loving it instantly. He'd never been much of a pet person, aside from the owl his parents had gifted him with for school. And his eagle owl mainly took care of itself, living in the owlery both at school and at home, where there were caretakers hired for the specific purpose of feeding and grooming the birds. 

But the kitten, with its small triangular face was oddly appealing in an innocent way. It seemed to suit Willow so well. He brought one hesitant hand up to the kitten and after it sniffed him again; she began to nuzzle at his fingers. He rubbed her gently under the chin and Willow giggled. 

"She has good taste," Willow sighed. 

Draco's eyes shot up to hers. "Of course she does." But his natural arrogance was just a façade in that moment, one that he couldn't keep up. "She's hardly left your side since she got here."

"Like someone else I could mention," Willow returned, then blushed suddenly at her forwardness. 

"Perhaps it's not us," he whispered, leaning in towards her. "Did you ever think that maybe it's you. There's just something about you."

"I-I guess,' she mumbled, her flush deepening. Draco sighed. This was it; the evening had come to its gentle end. But he brightened when he recalled that she had promised to have dinner with him tomor- no, it would be tonight, as late as it was. 

He moved his hands to take her face between them and tilted her head back gently. His lips descended to brush gently against her forehead. Her eyes drifted shut, as she leaned into the endearingly sweet gesture. "Happy birthday Willow," he murmured against her skin, and then was gone. The soft click of a door closing jolted her out of her stupor. Draco was gone. She grinned, feeling a little silly. The kitten let out a rumbling growl, protesting the tight grip around her abdomen. Willow looked down, suspicion on her face. She could have sworn the kitten had actually said something. 

"Did you just say 'love the person not the gender'?" she demanded. The kitten glanced up at her and blinked slowly. Willow shook her head, turning to open the door to her room. "Oh, you're losing it Willow." The door shut behind her. "But what a nice way to go."

***** 

"Bloody hell cat!" Draco shouted, having been shocked out of his comfortable slumber by four sets of claws in his pale ass. He whipped himself over, dislodging the kitten from her perch. She meowed happily, playing the game that she had every day for the last few weeks. She pounced again, but Draco managed to catch her around the tummy before she landed in a slightly more sensitive area. "Miss Kitty Leviosa," he growled, "I am going to de-claw you forcibly, yank out each and every one of those claws if you do that again." The kitten meowed and tried to bat at his nose, but he yanked his head back out of her reach. 

Willow had laughed when Draco had promptly named the kitten Leviosa for her flying leap attacks. In grand tradition, she'd added the Miss Kitty before it. She loved the intelligent little animal, as she knew Draco did, even though neither were cat people. But every morning was the same, woken up by the kitten's claws as she clamored for attention. Whether it was pouncing on him, or sitting on his chest, kneading his flesh to her preference. 

"Mmm," Willow mumbled sleepily, having woken up to this scene before. She tried to hide a grin. "Draco, you've threatened her with that every single day for the last two weeks and it hasn't stopped her yet." Draco rolled towards his lover, depositing the kitten on Willow's stomach. The kitten purred as loving hands automatically caressed her small head. 

"Yes, I keep hoping that one day she'll listen," he chuckled. He winced as Willow's hand moved to tickle the portion of anatomy that Miss Kitty Leviosa had attacked this time. 

"Do I need to bandage you up?" she asked teasingly. 

"You might," he drawled, glancing backwards over his shoulder. "I think she drew blood this time."

"Oh, poor baby," she crooned, pulling her hand back and not even looking at him. 

"Willow!" he protested, trying to draw her attention back from the cat. "It hurts," he pouted, using his little boy's voice. 

"Hmm," she nodded, then made a scrunchy-nosed face at the kitten. "Want me to kiss it better?" His mind was instantly thrown back to a few nights ago.

"Why yes," he grunted, his voice thick with remembered passion, "yes I do."

"Draco!" she laughingly protested. He glanced back down at her, his body moving to align itself with hers. He nudged the kitten from her, not worrying about its indignant protest. 

"Ah Willow," he sighed before his lips descended on hers, "you can kiss me anywhere."

***** 

The lovers stayed in bed a few more hours. Loving, sleeping, talking and of course more playing with the cat. But finally, Willow felt the need to fill her stomach and rose to shower. She'd invited him, but Miss Kitty Leviosa had fallen asleep on his chest. And though he'd yank out the tongue of almost anyone who said it, he had a soft spot for the kitten and didn't want to disturb her. 

He listened as Willow hummed to herself while bathing. She'd already admitted that she had a horrible voice. But, when he asked, she admitted that it wasn't quite as bad as Angel's. He sighed, glancing over at the roses on the vanity. They'd continued to bloom, not losing their freshness, just as he'd planned and charmed them to do. But after today, they'd be the only things left between them. That and memories. 

The twenty-eight days were up. Four weeks passed by as if it were nothing. Dumbledore and the rest of the Order would be expecting him back at Grimmauld place to share what knowledge he'd acquired. And somehow, the pride he'd taken in this job, the back and forth emotions of his ability to do it had faded from him. All that had mattered was getting closer to Willow. Oh sure, he'd been able to glean some information here and there when he actually remembered why he'd come. But it was more the carelessness of the group, forgetting that he was still very much a stranger, that had led to those incidents. So he knew now that these girls were Slayers, even if he wasn't sure precisely what that meant. The AI team were demon hunters. They all fought evil. It was good enough for him. He would bring back the preliminary information and allow others to investigate these claims. 

But as he watched Willow emerge from her bathroom, he couldn't help the uneasy feeling that crept over him. She'd shared so much with him and he'd barely told her a thing. Oh, he'd shared that he was magically inclined as well. He felt honor-bound, in a way, to giver her that. He could see the worry in her eyes when she'd admitted she was a witch. His admission put them back on an even keel and allowed her to relax again around him. It also made her believe that he'd be open-minded about some of the things that came and went during his stay at the hotel. 

Today was the day. It was the end. But somehow, the nobility of those he'd been acquainting with for the last year had rubbed off on him. Only to be reinforced by the openness of the beautiful woman before him. She had her weaknesses and insecurities, like he did. And he couldn't bear to think that he'd been less than honest with her. 

"Willow?" he called hoarsely. She pulled on a long T-shirt and then turned to him. He held out his hand to her and with a grin she moved towards him. She took a seat on the edge of the bed, her smile faltering a little at the serious look on his face.

"Draco?" she whispered, apprehension in her eyes. "What is it?"

"I-!" he faltered as well. He couldn't meet her gaze and lowered his eyes to the sheet, covering his lap. He'd never in his life had difficulty lying to a person. Why now, could he not face the truth? "Willow, I have something to tell you."

"Oh," she whispered. She gave his hand a light squeeze. "Is it about the Order?" His head shot up; his mouth gaping like a fish deprived of oxygen. "It's okay, you know."

"B-but how?" he gasped. "How do you know?"

"You talk in your sleep sweetie," Willow giggled, enjoying the rare moment of flustered British man. 

"I do?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "I mean, I was worried at first. Especially when you kept telling me to 'slam that bludger'. So not knowing what that means," she giggled again. "But yeah, we've had whole conversations while you slept."

"Oh hell and damnation," Draco muttered, dropping his head into his hands. "It was supposed to be a secret."

"Oh, you don't want me to slam your bludger?" she asked innocuously. Draco grinned up at her and she rolled her eyes. "I should have known. But no, I meant that it was okay. I discussed it with Buffy and the others and we're perfectly willing to talk with the Order. Give them what help we can. It's what we do. We're evil fighters. Evil beware!" she chuckled. 

"Really?" Draco asked. She nodded. "You're not mad?"

"I was a little," she shrugged. "At first. But then I kind of put myself in your shoes for a minute. So, I get it."

"Thank Merlin," he sighed. "So, why didn't you tell me earlier?"

She blushed and pulled away from him. "I- I didn't want you to leave."

He pulled her back, wrapping his arms around her, murmuring into her hair, "I don't want to leave either."

After a moment of silence, Willow shrugged helplessly. "But you have to, don't you?"

"Yes," he replied, just as helpless. "I do."

***** 

Willow walked slowly back to her room, cuddling Miss Kitty Leviosa in her arms. Draco had just left. They'd decided that, as the others weren't aware of his wizard status, he'd return to his safe place to apparate back to London. He'd given her one last kiss in farewell and then was gone. The others had been sympathetic, but Willow couldn't deal with them just yet. So she'd given in to the impulse to hide away. 

But her room was filled with memory of him. Willow deposited the cat on her bed and wandered to the vanity. At least she had his magic-charmed roses to remember him by. She bent her head to draw in the fragrance again. One that would remind her forever of him, his hands, his eyes darkening with passion, for her. She sniffled a little as she reached out to caress a petal. 

"Ah!" she cried, her hands finding nothing. She looked on in horror as the petals crumbled as if ash. Within seconds, there was nothing but a vase full of water, debris floating on top. "Oh no! No, Draco..." She sank to the floor, the tears finally coming. Not even the door banging shut would lift her from the grief and loneliness she was allowing to consume her. But the disgusted voice in her ear definitely caught her attention.

"Well hell, that wasn't supposed to happen," a well-loved British drawl echoed in her ears. Willow twisted around, to see her beloved crouching behind her, a wide smirk on his face. 

"Draco?" she muttered. "But, you left."

"I did," he confirmed casually. 

"And you came back?"

"I did, obviously."

"But why?" she choked out. This was just too cruel. To leave and come back, for the Goddess alone knew what. Because Willow knew that Draco couldn't stay here. He was needed, back in his own world. He pulled her up, to stand and regarded her seriously, one hand reaching to wipe the tears from her cheeks. 

"I am not an idiot!" he growled. Willow's eyes widened. 

"I never said you were," she murmured. 

"No," he chuckled. "As I was leaving, I was nearly hit by a car." She gasped, but he held her still. "And the driver called me an idiot. And I realized, that never in my life, have I been an idiot."

"Okay," Willow replied slowly. 

"And what kind of man leaves the woman he loves behind?" he grinned. 

"An idiot," she began to smile as well. 

"Right!" he nodded definitively. "And as I am not, nor ever will be one, there was only one option open to me."

"To come back?" she asked hopefully. He shook his head.

"No Willow," he sighed heavily. Her face fell a little, until he slowly sank down to the ground on one knee. "My only option is this. Willow, my love, will you marry me?" The silence that followed was broken by Miss Kitty Leviosa's kittenish grunt. Willow, dumbfounded, looked from Draco to the kitten, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. As always, the kitten gave uncommonly good advice. 

"Yes Draco," she laughed joyously, falling to her knees to wrap her arms around him. "I'll marry you!"

Challenge fiction requirements

Must Include:

The number 28

A kiss

Reference to a song from the 80's

A surprising friendship between two characters

Must include at least three of the following:

A quote from a movie from the 80's

A birthday party

"Put that thing away before you poke someone's eye out!"

A botched spell

"Don't make me spank you!"

Drusilla

Hermione

An inebriated character singing badly

"Don't look at me, they're your friends!"

Peach roses

"Hmmm… tastes like chicken."

Velvet

Faith

Fighting a demon while dancing


End file.
